


I Want You

by templeofelgarnan



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftercare, Baby's first porn, Begging, Consensual Kink, Face Slapping, Fluff, I edited this a bit as of 9/30/16 so, I'M SORRY IF THIS ISN'T THAT GOOD I'M JUST A VIRGIN WHO CAN'T EVEN DRIVE, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, This is nasty y'all, feminzation kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 19:37:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8070046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/templeofelgarnan/pseuds/templeofelgarnan
Summary: I've fallen into M!Inquistor/Blackwall hell. Here's my contribution to this small ship community. Title is from the song "I want you" by SummerCamp





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first porn I've ever written, so I'm sorry if it's not that good. 
> 
> ??? Honestly I, a gay boy, can't even write gay porn that well but 12 year old larries can?? @ Mythal where is the justice

They're both sweating, but Blackwall seemed to be worse off, as he was little more than a mountain of sweat, hair, and lust

“ _Fuck,”_ He growled as he thrusted into the inquisitor. The inquisitor, despite his pleasure hazed brain, found himself smiling as he remembered a rather humorous comparison his clan’s keeper had made between human men and bears.

“Wipe that maker damned smiled off of your face,” Blackwall growled again, this time punctuating his words with a deft but effective slap to the Inquisitor’s face.

The Inquisitor only moaned in response. The slap was hard enough to leave a nice red mark on his already too-sensitive skin, and living in the barn always left Blackwalls hands dirty. Nice and dirty enough that there were currently trails of dirt doing down the Inquisitor’s trembling abdomen, around his bruised and bleeding hips, and to his ass, which had turned a nice shade of chantry robe red thanks to Blackwall’s unyielding and merciless pounding into it.

After a particularly deep thrust, Blackwall stilled his hips. The Inquisitor whined out, too much of a shaking mess to form any type of coherent thought, and looked up at the Warden. The Warden’s only response was to run his calloused hands up and down the younger man’s stomach, making sure his nails dug into the elf’s stomach deep enough for there to be little pink trails left in his wake.

“I wonder what the chantry would think- what the people of Ferelden would think- if they knew their herald was such a slut.” His tone was almost predatory- something that made the inquisitor’s dick twitch ever so slightly. “Wonder what they would think,” one hand grabbed at the Inquisitor's waist with a bruising force and the other continued to scrape down his stomach, “if they knew how you slink into my bed each night and _beg_ for it.”

He put a heavy emphasis on the word bed, even moving his hips a little as he did. The Inquisitor just moaned and withered beneath him. Eventually, he found his voice, and through gritted teeth asked. “Is that what you want, Blackwall? For me to beg?”

Blackwall had to bite down a laugh that threatened to escape him. He found himself all too amused at seeing The Lord Herald of Andraste so vulnerable below him; the fact that the Herald would be willing to beg just for the chance to cum was icing on the cake. He ran a large hand up to the elf’s honey colored hair, gripping a handful as tight as he would the reins of a horse and lifted the boy's head so that they were on eye level. “Yes, but, _my lady_ , you best make it believable. No one likes a liar.”

That seemed to strike a personal chord with the elf. Blackwall noticed something flare up inside of his eyes. For a moment he worried he had gone too far, but before he could check or try to retract his statement the inquisitor opened his mouth.

“You know you want to fuck me, just give in. _Please-”_ before he could continue Blackwall used the hand in his hair to slam him back onto the pallet. He hit it with a grunt loud enough to stir the nearby horses.

“Listen, _your ladyship,”_ He added the slightest hip thrust at the already emphasized misgendering. For a moment, the Inquisitor almost regretted telling him about that particular kink. “,just because you add a please don't mean you're really begging. Try again.”

Lavellan used the last bit of strength left within his jelly-like limbs to tuck a hand under each knee and pull his legs further apart for Blackwall. Now spread wide open, and with a pink blush taking over his pale skin (not to mention the myriad of bruises, scratches, and other marks Blackwall had left on his skin) he knew looked little better than a tavern prostitute. He decided to use that to his advantage. “Fuck me, please. Fuck me like the _whore_ I am-” he emphasized the word with a far from subtle moan “-please Warden Blackwall I would give you anything in return.”

Lavellan’s begging had the intended effect on Blackwall, and before he could process the man was slamming back in and out of him at a steady rate. The position he was in- legs spread apart and laying on Blackwall’s crafting table- might not have been the most original, but it seemed to have certainly worked at seducing the older man.

“How much,” he panted. Grunted really. “How much longer.”

“If you bothered to try and find my prostate it wouldn't be that much longer.” Lavellan hissed. His attitude earned him another slap across the face.

“You should be grateful I even bothered to ask about your pleasure, _your holiness_.” That title, much more charged, said in that tone of voice, venomous and dominate, made the inquisitor melt.

Who knew his companion could be such a romantic?

To compensate for his misdoings during their session, Blackwall untangled a hand from Lavellan’s hair and brought it to the boy’s flushed cock. He was rewarded by a whore’s moan from the boy when he spat on it. Using the spit in place of oil, he started to move his hand on the inquisitor at a slow, almost teasingly slow, pace. It prompted him to let out a low whine and buck his hips up against the friction.

Doing so earned him a final slap, this one thrice as hard as the other two combined. “You will take what I give you and you'll be grateful.”

The snarl in Blackwall’s voice caused him to nearly moan again, but the inquisitor bit his lips before it could pour out.

“Say it.” The Warden growled. He was still thrusting into the inquisitor at the same pace as earlier, but Lavellan could feel a slight twitch in the other man’s movements. A spark of heat flared within him as realization did: Blackwall was close.

“I will not take more than what you give me.” Lavellan replied dutifully. He stopped trying to hide the overwhelming need in his voice. He, ever cleaver, was attempting to use his submissive position against Blackwall.

“You have about five seconds to cum before I do. If you don’t then you won’t get off.” Blackwall hissed and moved the hand he had wrapped around Lavellan’s dick as fast as he could.

The Inquisitor withered and moan, frustrated and stressed under the pressure, but even so he came within all of all two seconds of the given five seconds. As he came, he cried out Blackwall’s name obscenely, and painted his already filthy stomach with his own cum. The sight was enough to send Blackwall over the edge. He came with a simple grunt, eyes rolling so far back inside his head the Inquisitor wondered if he had blinded himself.

Blackwall was careful and slow when he pulled out of the trembling elf. His demeanor had changed the instant after he came. He was no longer domineering or demanding. He crouched down to where his lover lay, sweaty and far filthier than he normally allowed himself to be, and whispered sweetly. “What do you need, baby boy? I want to take care of you.”

The Inquisitor sniffled as Blackwall cupped his face and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “I want- I want a bath. Warm. And with all of those sparkly Orelsan soaps Vivienne gave me.”

“Of course, anything.” Blackwall stood scoped the elf in his arms. He draped the closest thing he could find across the boy’s body. It turned out to be a far-from-clean horse quilt, but Blackwall figured he wouldn’t mind since he was going to be bathed soon.

“And maybe some food. That turkey from tonight's dinner.”

“Who am I do deny you, _my lady.”_

“Fuck all the way off, emma lath.” His words were slightly slurred with exhaustion, and Blackwall had no doubt that Lavellan would be fast asleep before his bath was even drawn, but all the same carried him up to his room. It was a few hours before daybreak and, luckily, no one save a few guards were up. Blackwall nodded at the pair that had been posted outside of the Herald’s room (they had long since gotten used to this sort of behavior, and knew better than to ask questions). He felt the half-asleep bundle in his arms snuggle closer to him, which prompted him to place a kiss on top of his golden curls.

“Ar lath ma, Alexandros.” He whispered. He knew that Lavellan didn’t hear him, or that even if he didn’t the boy wouldn’t remember it come morning, and that was just fine with him. The Inquisitor was beautiful- something golden and holy to be worshipped- and he wasn’t deserving of him. Especially not with his past.

  
The Inquisitor's cheeks were flushed a bright red like the rest of his body, his lips were swollen from too-rough kisses, and his emerald green eyes were half closed. He had never looked more exhausted. He had never looked more beautiful. Just when they reached the top of Skyhold, and Blackwall was sure his confession hadn’t been heard, the Inquisitor whispered hoarsely “Ar lath ma.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading it! I hope you liked it, and I'd really appreciate some constructive criticism or nice reviews or just whatever!
> 
> Have a wonderful day! <3


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